Seeking The Past Dreading The Truth
by LegalanGreenleaf
Summary: Rated PG-13 for sad death scenes, battles involving good and evil, etc, this is the story of a young she-elf who grew up never knowing the truth of her past. For 50 years she stayed content to just be a milkmaid's daughter but she has been told to go to
1. The Scent of Death In The Morning

Chapter One The Scent of Death In The Morning

"Elente, don't forget to deliver the milk on your way!" a she-elf shouted as her daughter flew out of the door.

"Alright mother!" Elente yelled back to Madrial and she changed her path to go to the barn. She barely stopped long enough to load up a small cart with milk and grab the handle before taking off towards the market place. The market was a hectic place full of stalls with various items, taverns, and other places-of-business. Everywhere was a flurry of color. What with all these distractions, it is no surprise that the majority of people living near there were thieves. In fact, the very forest they were in was known as 'The Thieves' Forrest.' "'Morning Billie!" Elente greeted her boy friend cheerfully. They had first met when her mother had needed some help at the stall they owned in market. He now worked there every morning.

"**_More milk!?_**" He burst out like he had for the past ten years.

"Of course," she replied, "we do after all, need money and what better way to get it than to sell milk. Everyone needs it."

"Really, milk?"

"Yes, milk."

"Meet in the clearing near Love's Lake?"

"Sure…" Elente replied. Suddenly, she froze and her eyes widened.

"What's wrong?" Billie asked coming around the stall, "Something you forgot to do?"

"Mother!" she cried running off towards the farm closely followed by Billie. As he burst into the barn, he saw Elente cradling her mother and crying.

"Elente…" her mother breathed, "you must find your father."

"What about the farm?"

"Forget the damned farm!" Here Madrial's breathing became a little harder, "I love you and always will Elente."

"Where might I find him then?"

"Mirkwood…" With that, Madrial slumped against her daughter and let out her last breath.


	2. Mirkwood, here I come!

Chapter Two 

Mirkwood Here I Come!

"You aren't seriously going to Mirkwood are you? It's at least a weeks ride on the swiftest horse!"

"Madrial wanted me to go and find him, so I must." She answered simply. "Anyway, I can never be truly happy until I find out who he is." With that, she slung the saddlebags over Brand's back, grabbed her knapsack, slung it over her shoulder, and gave Billie a farewell kiss. He helped her into the saddle and she rode off towards the North.

"Quel marth (*good luck*)." He muttered under his breath as he watched her figure ride off towards Mirkwood.

**********

A week or so later

**********

__

'There it is… Mirkwood.' Elente thought.

"You've come a long way stranger. Unless you want that journey to have been in vain, get off the horse." A sentinel shouted from one of the trees above Elente. "Stay where you are and state your business in Mirkwood."

"I come seeking my past nothing more."

"What would your past have to do with this forest girl?"

"It is my business not yours, and anyway, if you are so desperate to learn the business of commoners, why don't you try the village in the Thieves' Forest, you're sure to learn a few things there." She spat at the sentinel.

"Anything that might endanger the king _is_ my business girl."

"Oh, I see, you thought that I, a young starved milkmaid, could endanger a king's life. Your wits must have left you sometime in the Third Age! All I want is to find the answer to a few of my questions, some food and drink, and a place to sleep. I have no elaborate plan to murder the king while he sleeps! I'm a peasant, we have no time to spare on things such as that!" With that, she climbed back on Brand and was about to enter the forest when a gigantic spider crossed the path a few yards down the road. "On the other hand, it would be nice if you could take me there…"


	3. Chapter Three for lack of a better name

Chapter Three

"So, what's going on here?"  Elente asked the guard as they rode into a clearing _filled_ with elves of all sizes and ages.

"Not much, just the Fellowship, or what remains of 'em, is gathering here just to discuss old times and such."  He replied unenthusiastically.

"Really!  _The _Fellowship of The Ring?!  It must be exciting living around here.  What with fending off gargantuan spiders, visits from the Fellowship and all."  Elente guessed ignoring his unenthused manner.

"LOOK!" shouted a random member of the crowd, "There they come!"

Elente looked in the only direction they could be coming from, behind her, and quickly moved Brand to the roadside allowing the Fellowship to pass.  Everyone in the clearing was cheering for the group of men, hobbits, etc as they rode in and halted near the entrance to the caves where the King, Legolas (he he… had to kill Thranduil for the sake of the plot…  DON'T HURT ME!  ((**runs and hides**))), awaited them.  

The crowd, after seeing the Fellowship and cheering loudly, realized that not much else was going to happen and began to leave.  Elente didn't follow the tide of elves hurrying back to their tasks, instead deciding to stay and watch the group of old friends ((the fellowship, don't be stupid!)).

**********

later

**********

Elente lay in the middle of a clearing staring at the stars.  She had been unable to find accommodation in any of the local inns and found a small clearing with a lone sapling in the center and was leaning against it._  What if I can't find him?  What then?  _As she continued to ponder, she began to fall asleep.  She spread her cloak over herself and fell into a dream-filled slumber.

          _^It was mid-summer and Madrial (Elente's mom) was sitting on a bench next to an unknown elf.  Yet, he was oddly familiar.  When she tried to get a closer look at his face however, she couldn't.  It was as though her dreams kept her from knowing the truth of her past.  The two elves embraced and Madrial told him something.  'I'm…"_

_          "Yes?"  The elf asked waiting for her to finish._

_          "I'm with child." She said softly and the man who _must _have been Elente's father smiled.^_

          ^Elente found herself sitting on that same bench with Billie.  "I've found him!" she told him happily, "I've found my father!"^

          ^Madrial was milking one of the cows in the barn.  A strong wind blew the door open with a loud bang scaring the animals.  When Madrial tried to calm the animals, one of the horses kicked out and she took a blow to the head.  A few minutes later, (The animals went out the way that the fenced-in pasture is) Elente saw herself run in through the door closely followed by Billie.  When her Mother died, Elente let out a sharp cry…^

          "MOTHER!" she cried sitting up, her breathing heavy and pulse fast.  She then realized she was in a well-carved bed and in a room that seemed to be part of a cave.

A/n  I'm sorry 'bout the cliffy!  I had to do it!  You'll find out soon enough! ~*^*~LegalanGreenleaf~*^*~  PS please review!


	4. Revelations and Explorations

Seeking the Past; Dreading the Truth

Chapter Four: Answers

Disclaimer: Don't own them.  JRR Tolkien does… wish he still lived so I could buy it from him… must try his son…

A/n: I am fully aware that by writing this chapter, I am turning her into a complete Mary Sue but I don't care.  If you have anything against them, give it a chance or leave now.

"Where am I?"  Elente wondered aloud as she looked around the room.  A servant walked in and Elente grabbed her wrist-

Madrial lay next to her lover.  She woke suddenly and turned to him.  A pained whisper in his ear made him sit up alarmed.  He quickly called in a servant, a midwife to be precise, from a nearby room.  The midwife bustled in and tried to shoo him out of the room; he however, did not intend to leave Madrial's side for one single moment.  Shaking her head and muttering about how men were not to be there and so on, she continued about her job.

- "Excuse me, Milady, are you alright?"  The servant asked.  "You looked like you were having a vision.  What was it about?"

"Whose room is this?"  Elente asked urgently, "My vision occurred in this room."

"Oh, this was the serving maid, Madrial Birch's room."  Elente perked up at her mother's name.  "She used to sleep down in the servants wing like the rest of us, but then that scandal started and she was moved here."

"What scandal?"  Elente asked quietly.

"About oh, 60 years ago, she had this crush on Thranduil's youngest son, Legolas.  Being, of course, of a lower station than him, she thought he would never return her feelings.  Then one day, he caught her after a banquet and told her he really did.  Of course, we never believed her when she told us, but they fell deeply in love.  Ten years later, nothing Thranduil said could change their minds.  She became with child and I was the child's nurse."  Elente was staring, wide-eyed at the servant.  "Then one day, that horrid Gollum was brought here.  Soon afterwards, he escaped and the Prince was sent to tell Lord Elrond of Imladris.  The poor child was so young when he joined the Fellowship of the Ring.  Poor Madrial, she and the child, Elente, were banished soon after his return.  Then there was that terrible hunting accident, the King and his older son died."

"I have found him, Mother."  Elente said quietly.

"Look me in the eye, young miss."  The servant commanded gently.  Elente did so, and the servant flung her arms around her with a short cry.  "Why have you come back, Milady?  What has brought you back here?"

"Madrial has died."  Tears streamed down Elente's face, "Her dying wish was that I come here to find my father."

"I might be able to get you in to see him, Elente."

"Not yet… what was your name…"

"Silme, my dearest.  (a/n her name means starlight)"

"Silme-"

Madrial and Legolas stood watching Silme and Elente play.  "Silme!"  The prince called out, "You can have the rest of the day to yourself."  Elente ran over and held up her tiny arms.  Laughing, Legolas picked her up and spun around.

-"I'd rather observe for a while.  Get to remember the Palace and forest first.  Can you help me blend in as a servant?"

"I'll try, but your father doesn't miss much that goes on here.  You can act as my assistant for the time being."

*****

Elente quietly opened the door and pushed her cart in.  She was serving the Fellowship in a private room.  Avoiding eye contact with them, she quickly handed out the meals and turned to leave.  Someone, however, didn't intend her to leave right away; Aragorn had grabbed her by the arm and was trying to get her to look at him.  "Look at me, young one," he demanded softly.  

          "Milord, I must go back to the kitchens."  She said, ignoring him.  The others were beginning to stare and she wanted to avoid her father until they were gone.

          "Just look at me for a moment, child."  Seeing he would not let go, she turned to face the Gondorian King.  In that simple glance, she felt as though he was reading everything from her past, and she quickly pulled away.

          Picking her skirts up slightly, she bowed and retreated from the room with a quick, "Enjoy your meal, your Highnesses."

          Hurrying out of the room, she ran towards the kitchens before Aragorn or anyone else could follow her.  'No one must know yet,' she thought as she stopped in and asked for the afternoon off.

          "How dare you ask for time off?  You're new here; you don't get the benefit of having as many freedoms as us."  The head cook ranted.

          "Neome, let her have the time off, I'll make up for it later tonight."  Silme said stepping into the kitchens behind Elente.

          "You'd better!  Now go on and git before I change my mind!"  She shouted at Elente who quickly ran out to the main entrance.

*****

          "Dang, it's closed.  Now I have to wait for them to go out hunting!  Argh!"  Elente rammed her fist against the magical gateway to the forest.

          "Do not forget," Silme began, coming from behind her, "you are of noble blood.  If you know the password, it will let you in or out as you please."

          "But, Silme, how am I supposed to remember the password?  I was only four when banished."

          "Is this not still your home?  Do you not remember all the good times you had in that short time?  Remembering a password is much simpler than remembering any of those."  

          After a few moments of concentration, Elente placed her palm flat upon the symbol of two crossed leaves and a pimpernel and whispered the password.  As the door creaked open, she thanked Silme and ran out.  The door closed behind her just as Gimli wandered past.

A/n:  This really is an awful chapter… r&r…  please.  I really don't even care if it's a flame, I'll read it, contemplate it, and feed it to the Balrog (or Bosco ((see Romance, Emus, and Cereal Spoons for details)) Bran's cat.).


	5. First Impressions

Seeking the Past; Dreading the Truth

Chapter 5:  First Impressions

Disclaimer: Don't own LotR, even Lego, no matter how much I wish I did (and he protests I do).  I own Madrial, Silme and Elente.

Summary: Through the memories of her parents' past, Elente finds her true self.  This chapter will be a memory of how Madrial and Legolas met.  ;-D

A/n:  Oopsy… I had meant to change Elente's age in the previous chapter, but apparently, I forgot.  She was 50 when banished, making her _almost _100 now.  Her birthday will be shortly before she reveals the truth to her father.  Also, anyone in favor of Madrial not really dying, review and say so.  Madrial's last name, which I am changing from common to Elvish, is Brethil.  Finally, the reason I killed Thranduil off is I didn't like having so little known about a character, and I couldn't write him in character.  If he's a little ooc, it's not my fault.

**********

Madrial walked up the forest path to the castle of Mirkwood.  She had come for a job, and intended to become a maid.  Because she came from the Thieves' Forest, she knew some would never trust her, but she never let that keep her down.

A good friend had recommended her for the position, and she was to meet a she-elf named Silme, who would help her get the job.  Coming up to the gates, she met a hunting party just about to enter.  She hurried over, and when challenged by a guard, explained she heard of the maid shortage.

"All right, then," he said, not really trusting her.  Once, she was a thief and was caught, and she had a 't' branded into her right wrist because of it.  Since then, she had never stolen anything again if she could help it.  Looking up, as the party filtered through the great stone archway leading into the caves, she caught a young lord's eyes for a moment.  Reluctantly, she pulled her gaze from his green eyes, and stepped through the slowly closing gateway.

"You Madrial Brethil?"  A redheaded elf asked, stepping forward.

"Yes, I am," Madrial replied, brushing a stray lock of brown hair away.  "Are you Silme?"

"Right.  Ok now, you need a job.  Follow me," with that, the redhead strode off down the corridors lined with torches.  "What type o' maid you looking to be?"

"I really don't know.  What is needed?"  Madrial asked, following Silme.

"Serving, and chamber maids.  You know, maids to change the bedclothes, bring in laundry, and start the fires in the morning."  Silme replied.

"I don't know, I would gladly do either," Madrial uttered, quietly.

  Opening a door, she ushered Madrial in.  "Heruaminrim (My lords)," she said, curtseying politely.  "Re na Madrial Brethil (She is Madrial Brethil)," Silme paused and reverted to Common, "I know you like to inspect the staff yourself, my king, so I brought her here first.  She wants a job as a maid here and is willing to take either position that is open."

The door opened again, and a tall elf walked in.  Madrial recognized him as the one who had caught her eyes at the gate.  He strode up to the throne and muttered something quickly to the king, before taking a seat on his right.

"Tula sinome, arwen Brethil (Come here, lady Brethil)," the king commanded.  Curtseying again, Madrial approached the dais where the thrones were situated.  "Umlle queni'numenya lambe (Do you speak the western tongue)?"

"Uma, Heruamin (Yes, my Lord)," she replied, before switching languages, "I am told, I was the closest to fluent in the Thieves' Forest."

"A thief, eh?  I have no use for thieves as servants, leave."

Madrial rolled up her right sleeve and gestured to the brand, "This is five centuries old," she explained, "I had only stolen two loaves of bread then, and even that was because someone else stole them from me.  Just because someone lives somewhere that is not exactly respectable, doesn't automatically make him or her any less respectable."

"DINA!"  Making a sound that resembled a frightened kitten Madrial sank to the floor.  

"Please, my Lord, do not judge her by her words," Silme quickly spoke, before the king could, "there are no jobs elsewhere for her.  Our palace was her last hope."

"Father," the elf seated to his right started, but he was silenced by a swift movement of the hand.  Thranduil passed a hand across his brow, deep in thought.

"Fine," Madrial jumped back up, "but if I hear that _anything_ has gone missing," the king stared at the young she-elf, "it'll be your head."  Curtseying for what seemed like the millionth time, Madrial followed Silme out of the hall.  Silme led her down the other hallway, deeper into the caves.

"Ok, I guess you'll help me in the mornings and when there's feasts.  Most of the time, I do both jobs, anyway.  Down the hall on the left is the Upper Halls, which are mainly used for feasts.  Straight ahead are the cells for prisoners and even farther down are the cellars and the stream we use to trade with the men of Long Lake."  As she spoke, Silme pointed down each individual hallway.  "Servants quarters are this way."

          Madrial was silent as she followed the redhead deeper into the cave system.  She had always had a slight fear of being closed in, and the idea of doors that opened only for the royal family disturbed her greatly.

A/n Maybe this will be continued in the next few chapters.  Right now, although I have a map of the Mirkwood Caves in front of me, I can't find a way to describe any more places.  I think that qualifies as Writers' Block, but I'm too lazy to write a writers' block story, so you all have to deal with me.  ;D


	6. Fires and Fainting Spells

Seeking the Past; Dreading the Truth

Chapter Six

  
  
Disclaimer: I am LegalanGreenleaf's disclaimer kiwi bird, Bert.  She does not own Lord of the Rings or Legolas… so she thinks… but does own Madrial Brethil, Silme, Elente, and Billie.  
A/n: I am enjoying writing about the past happenings quite a lot, so I will continue for a few chapters in this style.  
AragornLover: Uhm… baka? This has now moved to the past.  Thranduil is still alive in these.  Same w/Madrial even though I'm bringing her back…  
  
*****  
Silme leaned over the sleeping form of Madrial.  They were in the dark servants quarters, and it was slightly before dawn.  "Madrial," she whispered, tilting the bucket slightly to let some drops fall to the other's face, "time to wake up, chores.  We have fire and breakfast duty in the Royal Wing, and they rather literally will whip us if we tarry."   
  
Madrial poked a hand out and yanked Silme's ankle, causing the redhead to fall.  "I'm not moving till dawn."  A bleary eye turned to her, "Five minutes…"   
  
Sighing, Silme grabbed the blanket and yanked it from the dainty form of her friend. "  Nope, now or face the consequences."  Grumbling, Madrial grabbed her apron, as she had slept in her dress.    
  
*****  
"You take the short hallway before the main chambers," Silme directed, dragging her breakfast cart down the halls to the Royal Wing.  "I don't think you should go anywhere near the king after yesterday's fiasco.  That would certainly be playing with fire… pardon the pun.  All you do is light the fires, set the tray near it, and do so quietly."   
  
Yawning, Madrial nodded and took the directed pathway.  She opened the only door and inaudibly made her way to the large fireplace.  Taking a small piece of flint from her pocket, she knelt down before the hearth that would easily fit a full backed chair.  Striking the flint… nothing happened.  Madrial tried again with the same result; no spark of flame emerged.    
  
The figure in the bed stirred slightly, and Madrial started vigorously chipping at the flint.  After fifteen minutes of no sparks, and a much-dented piece of flint, she started to get desperate.  "Tulno' lle ringa runya!  (Come on you da** flame!)  Me'runya, me' (Light flame, light.)"  Getting desperate, she grabbed some of the tinder and rubbed it together.  By this time, the inhabitant of the room had woken and was rubbing his eyes clear.  Whimpering, Madrial rubbed the twigs together harder.    
  
Spying her, the figure said, "Mani luume' nata?  (What time is it?)"   
  
"  Sha anoron, Heru en amin, (almost dawn, my lord)" she replied meekly from her perch near the hearth.    
  
"Mani nai'rashwe?  (What is the problem?)"  He asked, shifting slightly.    
  
She slumped before responding, "I'runya, Heru en amin, ta uummerna' me'a.  (The fire, my lord, it doesn't want to light.)"  He quirked an eyebrow at her before yawning   
  
"Lle anta amin tu?  Qalumamin tanya waima, saes? (Do you need help?  Will you toss me that robe, please?)"  He queried, pointing to the fireplace and then to a deep green robe draped over a chair.    
  
"N'uma, Heru en amin, amin uumantai' (no, my lord, I do not need any.)," Madrial replied, getting up.  Grabbing said robe, she walked toward the bed.  As she moved closer, she recognized him as the Prince, and her face flushed.  "Amin hiraetha, Taren Legolas.  Amin uumai' faika, amin caelilnaikotane neva er en' lle taurn teema (I'm sorry, prince Legolas. I do not mean any disrespect, I have never been near one of your high line.)"   
  
**A/n ergh…  I hate doing this, but, they have no word to convey importance and I must use 'common speech'.  I am trying my hardest to be accurate in my usage of Elvish, but due to the lack of resources ((damn you, Tolkien!  You should have left better records!)), it is quite hard to find every word necessary.  **   
  
"My high line?"  The prince inquired, folding his arms across his chest.    
  
"As a noble, with the lineage you have, many would die just to protect you, whereas none would spare a glance in my direction were I in peril," she replied without hesitation, "I'm a simple peasant; you are the Crown Prince of Mirkwood.  It has taken millennia for me to acquire this position.  You were born into privilege and care not for the problems of the common population."  The robe was clenched in her fist, forgotten.    
  
Legolas laughed lightly, "Closest to fluent, I'd say you are quite articulate in the Common Speech.  Never has anyone said anything so… expressive to me before.  If you said the same to my father, he would certainly run you out of the forest!"  He looked to the ceiling, contemplating what she had said.  "If only the princesses Father wished me to marry had that kind of spunk; every single one of them is dry as toast, and always denied what they truly felt.  Were either of my brothers still alive, I could choose to live away from the castle, but that is not the case, and there are no others to give the crown to if my father was to die," shaking himself from his thoughts, he managed to pry Madrial's grip from his robe.    
  
She quickly blushed and turned away.  "You read me wrong, by the way.  Now then," he said, tapping her shoulder, "what was the problem with my fire?"   
  
"The fault lays not in the fire, but in the flint, my Prince.  Despite all my attempts to produce a spark, none comes."  Balancing on her toes in front of the fireplace, she demonstrated how the flint refused to work.  Legolas knelt beside her and motioned for the flint.  She handed it to him, and he struck the other piece against it, rewarded by a spark.  Madrial flopped backwards, cracking her head against the hard stone floor.  "No language has a sufficient adjective to describe the embarrassment I feel right now," she muttered, blushing, "I'm a failure at anything but stealing… ow, my head…"   
  
Legolas turned to her, "Where does it hurt?"  He asked, helping her lift her head from the hard stone.    
  
Silme chose that moment to enter the room.  "Madr-" her eye flinched when she saw her friend lying prone and the prince mere inches away, cradling her head in the crook of his arm.  "Maybe this isn't a good time…"   
  
Madrial tried to sit up quickly but the room swirled and she merely flopped back down, only the arm beneath her head stopped her from cracking it again. "  …  Going dark…" with that simple comment, she fainted.    
  
"Milord, shall I go inform the healers?"  Silme asked her eyes filled with concern for her friend.    
  
"Rima ilya i' men manka lle harma lle sama (Run all the way if you treasure your post.)" With his reply, she rushed off to find a healer.    
  
Panting, she burst into the healer's quarters, "Antfallaner, tularauka!  (Need a healer, come swiftly.)"  She managed to gasp out before running full tilt back the way she came, leaving the healer trailing in her wake.  Knocking first, she entered the Prince's room and gasped out, "Fallaner sinome (healer's here)," before she collapsed into chair, taking giant gulps of air.  As soon as the healer swept into the room, she ran to Madrial, who was now lying on the bed.    
  
"Mankoi uumron istimtanya ta i''kshataque yelcorset?  Manka ron ere' tampmagsen, lye umtampa caeltalant nessa edainme ilya vanwa i' yamen'! (Why don't they learn it's those evil contraptions called corsets?  If they got rid of them, we'd stop having fainted young women all over the place!)"  She exclaimed shoving a small bottle of smelling salts under Madrial's nose.  "Ta ere' i' chir a' i' mahalma turatso', (If only the heir to the throne would control himself,)" she added with a pointed look at said prince, who blushed.   
  
"Tampa, tanya ilmani sanyamen'. Re lantten' re tamnhe dol no' i' talan.  Re karnnir 'wanwa me'amin naur ar' uumtulvanwa, tanya ram. (Stop, that's not what happened. She fell because she knocked her head on the floor.  She made many attempts to light my fire and did not succeed.)"  The Prince slapped a hand to his forehead and tried to rephrase all he had said.  
  
Madrial awoke with a start right at that moment, and distracted, the healer forgot about the stuttering Prince behind her.  "Dina, eller, eller…nyaramin iluve tanya sanyamen'.  Umro cronlle?  (Hush, there, there… tell me everything that happened.  Did he harm you?)"

Glancing over at Legolas (who was still hitting his head, though he'd stopped muttering), Madrial replied calmly, "N'uma, Fallaner, sina nailya amin flant.  Amin cuivro ed' flant, (No, healer, this is all my fault. *I couldn't find fault or any of it's synonyms, so I got creative…* I awoke him by mistake,)" she pushed herself into a sitting position, so she could see the Prince better, "Amin hithera, heruamin."

Soon after making sure she was all right, and getting the Prince to help move her to a different room (at his insistence, the healer and Silme would have carried her, otherwise…), the healer left, ordering her to a day's bed-rest.  As the door slid closed, Madrial sighed, fooling with a corner of her quilt.  "If it helps any," the Prince said quietly, from the chair near the bed, "it wouldn't have mattered if the fire was lit or not.  I never enjoyed waking up to the heat of a fire burning; it just makes me think of the fires that even now are re-kindling in the Black Land."

Smiling slightly, Madrial replied, "I'll try to remember that…"

*****

A/N And there you are, folks!  That wraps up this chapter of StP;DtT!  Please, don't give up on me, I will update, I'm just very busy at this moment in time.

LegalanGreenleaf

BTW: You should all thank aragornlover, who poked and prodded me constantly to get this done.


	7. Author's Note

Author's Note:  
I hate Writer's Block... help me out here, guys. Madrial's finally going to find out how Lego feels... but... i need a dress idea, and a line to woo her into a dance.  
  
Cookies to the best idea, and a possible feature!  
  
Legalan 


End file.
